I had an interesting therapy session a few days ago. I’m at a big crossroad in my life.

For the last three years, transition has consumed my life. It was July of 2012 that it began, and it’s winding down fast. I’m not “done” and won’t be for another year, but all of the big things – things like coming to terms with being trans, coming out of the closet, telling family, going full time as a female, changing my name, getting on HRT, and surgery – are now done. At this point, it’s just riding out the rest of HRT and finishing up my electro. (Which is coming along very nicely.)

And of course, the next step, enjoying life. 🙂

What we talked about in therapy is something I’ve written about here many times, the church. I left the church at the start of transition. It’s really the thing that was holding me back, and it was the turning point that finally let me be myself. But I left the church so quick that there’s still a lot I need to work on there… it was just something I had to do, but I didn’t really take the time to understand it all.

I watched a movie called “Saved!” last week. It’s on NetFlix. I had to watch it twice. The first time took a few days because it was just too much for me and I had to watch it in pieces. The second time I was able to watch it all at once and actually enjoy it.

It’s clear that the movie was written by ex-Christians like myself. They nailed the church scenes. It was exactly like how it is in real life, and as I was watching it, I found myself thinking “Wow I miss that,” which scared me. I had to remind myself that no, I don’t miss it. I miss certain parts of it – like the camaraderie with other people – but I do not believe in God. We talked about how there ARE churches that are welcome of transwomen, but I quickly decided that that’s not a good idea. It wouldn’t be genuine… I wouldn’t be there for the reason other people are there. In many ways it would be worse than before.

Something my therapist brought up is that the church was a good chunk of my social structure, and I haven’t really replaced it. He’s right about that.

For a while I had hoped that I could make the furry fandom take some of that, but it’s just not working out. I’m too old. I’m also asexual, and that’s just not common there. Second Life helps, a lot, but I often miss having people in the same physical place as me.

I’ve thought about what to work on next. One of the things I had in Austin was the House Rabbit Resource Network (HRRN). I had some friends there that enjoyed me, and I enjoyed them. We had our mutual love of bunny rabbits between us, and we had a mission to help save the lives of rabbits. Maybe I should look for a group like that here to get involved in.

Who knows. It just so weird that something that had consumed my life – finances, time, emotions, everything – for so long is winding down.

So I am now a post-op transsexual female. It feels amazing to be able to say that. 🙂

I will remember last week for forever, I think. I had to go two weeks without estrogen before surgery, so I went into last week in a really funky state. I wasn’t very happy and certainly did not feel normal.

On Sunday I picked up a very close friend friend from the airport. (We aren’t joking when we say we’re “like family.” We really are, and we act like it!) We didn’t do a lot that day, other than just hang out here and enjoy each other’s company and some time together. For dinner we found this amazing vegan Chinese place in Oakland that has this really amazing fried rice. It has raisins and stuff in it, and it’s heavenly.

Monday was our day to go hang out together, except I didn’t really sleep the night before. My nerves were getting the best of me at that point. I had a pre-op doctor’s appointment in the morning, which my friend came along with, and then we stopped at a BART station on the way home and took a train downtown.

We walked around Chinatown a bit to one of her favorite places – another vegan Chinese place that’s a bit off the beaten path. The food was also amazing, and I enjoyed every bit of it. Afterwards, I was really dragging… mostly from lack of sleep, but I made some stupid decisions and didn’t drink enough water that morning. (I was still on spiro, which is a strong diuretic.)

After lunch I taught my friend the wonders of Uber, and we got a lift to the hospital where I was to have surgery the next day. We went inside, figured out where I was suppose to go, who to go see, etc, so that the following day, on Tuesday, this wouldn’t be an issue. I’m very glad we did, because we struggled to find it… but it was no big deal, because we weren’t under a time crunch.

After that we walked to the Muni station, took the Muni train to a BART station, and then took BART back home. Once we got home we were home and just basically vegged out in front of the TV the rest of the night.

Tuesday was surgery day.

We got up around 4:00am and got to the hospital by 6:00am. I was a bundle of nerves. If there’s one thing to be said about my friend and I, it’s that we feed off each other. She was just as bad as I was, and had tummy problems before we left the house.

We took an Uber to get there to save both of us the stress of trying to take public transit while really tried and super stressed out. Smart move. The Uber driver loved us to death, and offered to come pick us up on the way home, but I declined because I didn’t know when we were going to get home. He understood.

While we were in the car to the hospital I started a large texting group with a bunch of people, and the handed my phone to my friend. She kept the group informed of how I was doing. I asked them to treat the group as read-only, but, uh, my friends are furs, and they did was furs do. Talk. Lots. Oh well. 🙂

Once we were at the hospital we got all checked in, and then sat around for a little bit. After the nurses got there (we got there super early, not knowing what traffic was going to be like), they took us up to my room and started the pre-op stuff, like weighing me, getting an IV in, etc.

Surgery itself was not that big of a deal.

They wheeled me into the pre-op “holding area” and I got to see the surgeon and the anesthesiologist while awake. They both asked me a lot of questions. I was in there what felt like forever, but I don’t really know because I was sooo nervous. They never did give me something to calm me down, unlike other times I’ve had surgery.

When I got to the OR itself I was impressed how small it was. The table was very small. There was a thingy blowing warm air on it when I got there, so it was super warm once I got on the table, which was nice. They made me get on the table myself, which I thought was odd, but whatever. 🙂

The table was so small that they had to go get things for my arms to rest on, which they hooked up and strapped me into it. I thought that was also odd. They hooked up a heart rate monitor, and it showed my heart was going 160 BPM, which didn’t surprise me as I was so nervous.

Shortly after the heart rate monitor was connected they put a mask on me and did the “I’m going to give you some oxygen” thing, which of course isn’t oxygen at all… and the next thing I remember, I’m in the recovery room.

I was in recovery quite a while. I came out of if it really slowly. I remember sitting there with a nurse slowly feeding me ice chips, which I liked, because my mouth was really dry from the breathing tube they put in while I was under.

Coming out of it is always a weird feeling. I was only aware of a tiny bit of myself at first – just my head and my chest, but I slowly started becoming more and aware of the rest of my body. I remember panicking at one point as I came out of it because I couldn’t feel anything, but it passed quickly.

After this they wheeled be back to my room. My friend was waiting for me out in the hallway, and you have no idea how good it was to see her again. She followed us up to my room, and we hung out there for a while while I woke up all of the way.

The nurse brought me a few little things of juice, which I quickly finished. She could tell I was super thirsty, but warned me not to drink too much just yet. That didn’t last long, as eventually my friend went somewhere and turned with three 20oz bottles of Coke Zero, which I consumed before we even left the hospital.

As we were getting ready to leave we learned a bit about my nurse, Betsy. She had an HRC sticker on her ID badge, and she outted herself to us as gay as we were getting ready to leave. We also found out she was also a huge rabbit person (she called rabbits her “spirit animal”), and we talked about buns for a little bit. She was the perfect nurse for me, I think.

Once I got on my feet I was able to go use the restroom in my hospital room alone, which was great. Then I got dressed, and we walked out to the front. It was around 2pm at this point. Another Uber was dispatched, and we began the ride home.

The ride home was hard. There was a stalled car on the Bay Bridge and it created a lot of traffic. I nearly had a panic attack in the car (not sure why – most likely because I was still coming out of it), but we got home in one piece.

Upon arriving we sent one final text to the big group letting them know I was home safely, and then recovery began. Dinner that night was Chipotle, delivered by my new friends at Darling Courier.

The rest of the week is kinda a blur. For the most part it was just my friend and I at my house watching movies, eating meals, and enjoying each other’s company. Lots of jokes were told at my expense (things like “I’m a little less nuts,” “I feel like someone just cut my balls off,” and of course, lots of silly references to babyfurs with my friend having to “change” me – meaning replace the feminine pads that were soaking up blood from the incision).

We built a blanket fort one night and laid on the floor having fun watching movies. It was a really comforting thing having someone here to be with me that week. I’m sure I could have managed it solo, but with someone else here… it was just so much better. I knew things were going to be okay.

So that’s that. I’m now on the other side, and it feels wonderful. ❤

A very heart-warming thing happened today.

I have a friend that flew into town to spend this week with me. She and I are quite close. Our relationship is very strictly platonic, but it’s kinda hard to see that from the outside, as we’re often seen doing things like holding hands and hugging.

While checking in at the hospital this morning, when I was asked who to contact in the case of emergency, I told them my friend. (She was sitting next to me.) She gave the hospital her name and phone number. When asked what our relationship was she said “we’re very close friends, like family,” and that was that. No other questions were asked.

They gave her a form to sign that stated this, which gave them permission to talk about me with her, which she signed, and that was that. From that moment on, it’s as if we were a couple. She was allowed into my room, could come see me as I left the recovery room and everything. When I came out of the OR, the surgeon went to visit with her and told her how things went, etc, just like they would for a spouse.

This evening the surgeon called my house to check on me, but rather than call me, he called her. (A very nice gesture indeed.)

The way the hospital treated us was the highlight of the day. They didn’t let the fact that we’re not a married couple get in the way, and simply treated us in the way we wanted to be treated. It gives me hope that things are getting better in the future. ❤

Leaving for the hospital soon. I am so nervous. I haven’t slept well in a few days. 😦

What a fun afternoon! I picked a beach and at random that had a parking lot on Google Maps and the put the coordinates into Waze. 90 minutes later I was there. 🙂

I took my SLR, but haven’t looked at the photos yet. It’s really hard to take selfies with an SLR, so here’s a quickie taken with my phone instead. 🙂

The drive home was amazing!! I took CA1 to 84. 84 is one of the most challenging drives I’ve done since it’s 20 miles of curves, but wooooooooow is it pretty! Oh my gosh! I have a new favorite drive. 🙂

When I got onto 280 Waze started yelling at me about fog ahead and it wasn’t kidding. The fog was just rolling over the hills and coating the freeway. It was breathtaking. ❤

This is the most San Francisco day I’ve had yet. 🙂 🙂 🙂

Last night did not go according to plan.

Because the Golden Gate Bridge is closed, the Bay Bridge is the only way into San Francisco from both the North and East Bays. I knew this and left myself lots and lots of time to get there, but it still took over two hours to get there. It took over an hour to go less than a mile getting to the tollbooths. My right heel was _really_ hurting by the time I got there.

The place where I was suppose to go was in the Mission. I’d never been there before. I had no clue where I was, really, I was just doing what Waze to me to do.

I got there and the nice brightly-lit parking garage where we were suppose to park was full. Disaster.

I went looking for a place to park for 20 minutes or so, and found nothing. I got really frazzled because people were zooming around me as I was driving kinda slow trying to make out the lines on the street that show where the parking spots are.

I got really scared. I had no idea where I was. I didn’t know if it was safe. When I finally did find a parking spot, it was dark, and the path I’d have to go to get to the party was very dark as well. I had no clue if it was safe to do that… I’d never been there during the daylight.

I just kept going. I didn’t want to risk being unsafe. Finally I found a sign pointing me to 101, and I hopped on the freeway and headed home.

When I pulled into the parking garage at my apartment I was shaking I was so scared. I parked, went up to my apartment and asked a friend to call me.

She quickly did. Once I had the stress of “I need to get home safely” off my shoulders, I broke down with my friend on the phone. I cried a bunch.

I ended up going to bed really early and slept like 10 hours. I feel better today, but last night was about the most terrified I’d ever been in my life. I know I did the right thing — if I’m not sure if it’s safe, don’t stop, ever — but I’m really bummed I didn’t get to go to the Holiday party.

I think it’s time I stopped trying to do things like this alone.

At least I have a cute outfit all picked out for the next time, I suppose.

So I’ve been thinking about my family members.

I live in a world where LGBT issues and gender fluidity is just a given. It’s not a big deal. I have a lot of trans friends, and I’m just surrounded by it every single day. It’s totally normal to me… there’s even several of us at work.

But for my ultra-conservative family that lives in Texas? I might have been the first transsexual they’ve ever met. Maybe they *DID* notice, but I’m so far out of their experiences, that simply have no idea how to react, other than pretending nothing changed?

Something I’ve been thinking about.

So Christmas was pretty awful. My expectations were way too high going in.

When I came out of the closet 18 months ago to my folks, they said they wanted to handle letting my extended family know. I said fine… and then promptly forgot about it. Turns out they never did. 😦

There’s a lot of things going on right now with my Dad (brain cancer, etc), so I can’t get too upset, but I didn’t find out about this until 48 hours before I was suppose to take off to go there.

My folks feel a need to “protect” me from the more right-wing parts of my extended family. These are the people that openly called my sister a devil worshiper when she got her tongue pierced years ago.

As such, when there was a chance I’d be near anyone, I was more-or-less told I needed to wear a “costume,” which was basically a men’s shirt, no jewelry, no bra, no purse, etc. That wasn’t the worse part of it… the worst part was constantly getting called a name I have been trying very hard for the last year to bury, and being mis-gendered for hours, while being powerless to stop it. It was very, very hard. It was all I could do to not break down in front of them.

I did break down in front of my Mom later once we got to her house. I cried so much I got her to cry, too. 😦

I need to keep this from happening again. I don’t want to be protected against those people. Let them write me off – I don’t care. They haven’t been a part of my life in 20 years, why should I care about them now? Being written off is WAY better than not being genuine, you know? I can’t pretend like nothing changed.

I am very proud of the person I’ve become. I’m a bounce-y and happy person almost all the time, and I like that! I have zero reason to hide and be ashamed of who I am. I have done nothing wrong, in the least. If they can’t accept that… it’s their loss, not mine.

I’ve taken steps to fix this. I saw how much my Mom and Sister use Facebook while I was down there, so when I got home I made a Facebook account under my legal name, and friended my Mom and Sister. I’m just gonna … be me on it. My goal is to let that evil friends-of-friends thing do its job and let the “Who’s Bunny??” rumors leak out.

I did have one nice win! On Christmas Eve my Mom and I went out for dinner while I was still in disguise. The waitress took one look at us and said “is there anything I can get you ladies?” without any hesitation. That made me feel good.

The trip was not all bad. My flight home was just amazing. I had something magical happen that totally made my trip worthwhile. 🙂

I’ve been trying to watch Amazon’s Transparent. I was a little nervous at first, as shows on transexual issues are usually pretty bad, but they’ve done a really good job with it. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go look at the Wikipedia article on it… it describes it well.

The way they’ve done the show is really gut-wrenching if you’re trans. They’ve got a running story line, but along the way they have flashbacks to various times in the lead character’s life, and it’s so easy to see myself. Some of those flashbacks are things that actually happened to me before coming out.

Last night I attempted to watch the fourth episode. There’s a little bit of a spoiler here, so if you care, you might wanna stop reading now.

In this part of the story, Mora (the father) is out in public for the first time with her two daughters. She’s 70 and her daughters appear to be about my age. (Late 30s.) The kids are struggling with how to address their father, but that’s all understandable.

While out at a mall-like place, Mora needs to use the restroom, so her kids lead her to the the Women’s restroom. When they get inside they flub a bit and keep saying “Dad,” and it draws the attention of a transphobic loudmouth.

The transphobic loudmouth goes off on her, and threatens to call the cops. (I started freaking out here.) When I turned it off, they had left and had found a porta-potty at a construction site for their Dad to use. I don’t know what happened next, I couldn’t go on.

This impacted me very deeply. I constantly live in fear of getting chased out of a restroom. There are times when I just hold it for way longer than I should out of fear of using the restroom in public. (I survive by having found a few places I know are safe – my apartment, the restroom at work, and the private bathrooms on the ferry.)

What I was seeing played out on the screen is my worse fear. It was being acted out very well, in vivd detail, and it just scared me badly.

I’ve been thinking about why this impacted me so much. I mean, I sometimes watch scary movies, or things like The Walking Dead, and it’s not that big of a deal, really. What I think it comes down to is that I know the odds of the zombie apocalypse happening are pretty small. The odds of me getting trapped in some unknown house, late at night, with a stranger that’s out to kill me is very small.

But the threat of getting yelled at because I have to pee? That’s real life. That’s something I deal with every single day, whether I want to or not. It’s not fiction to me, it’s my every day real life.

I’m really happy Amazon made Transparent. I hope it’s eye opening to people that have never had a transsexual loved one, or are trans themselves. But for me, it’s just too much like real life to enjoy it. Maybe in a few years when I’m on the other side of transition, but not today.

Six months! Wow, how time files!

This month brought a really harsh reality check. Last week I was in Boston, MA on business. I was there from Monday until Friday. I don’t think I passed once while I was there… this is a very sharp contrast from in California.

I am sure that part of the problem was the weather. It was so humid (85-90% humidity), that I had to put my hair up in order to be comfortable. When I do this, I don’t pass very well. I have great hair, but when it’s up, it does me no good… and you can see some of the male-pattern hair recession I have.

By Wednesday I had just given up. It was so hot and humid that I just left my hair up the rest of the trip and quit messing with it. Just stepping outside was so humid it felt like I was in the shower. I was miserable. I was sir’ed the rest of the time.

The worst was at the TSA gate. The dude was holding my ID, which clearly says “F” on it, and was circling my name on the boarding pass (which is a very feminine name!) and said “You’re all set, Mr. $LastName.” I wanted to cry.

When I was on the plane on the way home I let my hair down and brushed it out really well. Upon landing back in San Francisco my magical powers of passing had returned! Instantly I was “Thanks Mam” and “welcome home, Miss” the rest of the trip, as I’m used to.

So, for better or for worse, I learned a lot last week. I have a long way to go. It made me appreciate how lucky I am to get to transition in such a friendly environment here in San Francisco.